


Send Off

by DMichelleWrites



Series: Ficlets [29]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Fluff and Smut, Married Life, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 03:53:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13802841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMichelleWrites/pseuds/DMichelleWrites
Summary: Oliver gives Felicity quite the send off before her week long business trip to Gotham. Sequel to my Valentine's Day story,Business and Pleasure, but you don't have to read that to enjoy this fanfic.





	Send Off

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to write this sooner, but A) I can't write smut with my parents around a lot this weekend. Talk about awkward. B) I'd like for my ideas to form an orderly line. I was busy outlining a new idea, which involves Donna's lack of inclusion in her daughter's life, and how married Olicity handles PTSD, inspired by a scene from _Grey's Anatomy_.

“Honey, are you ready to…?”

Oliver climbed the stairs of their old loft. The space transformed into a multi-purpose area for the Clayton-Smoak-Queen, but Felicity used it for Smoak Enterprise business meetings with her colleagues Lily Stein, Zari Tomaz, and Tami Walsh. William occasionally stopped by with Raisa when he needed some peace and quiet to finish a few school projects. And Oliver, well, his use for it was far more sinful. He and Felicity often had a quick lunch break complete with dessert.

Felicity sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor on their walk-in closet, “Shoes. Um, what shoes do I need?”

“Go with your boots. Gotham still has slushy snow weather.” Oliver suggested with a clear of his throat.

She jerked in surprise, hand clutching her rapidly beating heart.

“Geez, you scared the shit of out me.” Felicity sighed, “You’re like a ninja cat.”

His forehead wrinkled, “Ninja cat?”

“Yes, a sneaky one too.” His wife confirmed with a nod.

Turning on the charm, Oliver adopted a British accent, “My sincerest apologies, Lady Smoak-Queen.”

“Yeah.” Her nose scrunched, “Don’t do that accent in front of Constantine when you, William, and I go to London this summer.”

“You said that accent was sexy.”

She snorted, “Keep telling yourself that, Oliver. I said Jason Statham has a suave accent.”

“Same difference.” He debated indignantly.

Felicity patted his shoulder. “No, it’s not.”

“ _Felicity_.”

Oliver uttered her name like a smooth red wine seeping down his throat. It did things to her, all sorts of things the couple did not have time for right now. A pink flush highlighted her neck and collarbone.

“Will you please help me bring me my bags downstairs?” His wife requested once she regained her bearings after a long beat.

He smirked, the smug bastard. “Of course.”

Oliver’s mind flooded with memories when he spotted a green throw pillow, one that should definitely not be turning him on at the moment. But after their Valentine’s Day trip to Gotham, how could it not? He stuffed the pillow into her carry-on with plans, such naked plans and a very secure video chat as soon as possible.

His wife pointed a finger at him, “Oh, no, no, no. Don’t you even think about it, mister.”

“Think about what, my love?” His voice dipped to Green Arrow level low as he crossed the foyer, closing the distance between them.

She literally growled at her husband, maintaining her firm demeanor. Yet Felicity’s resolve began to crack akin to eggs in the brownie batter, which she and Oliver ate at 2AM after a passionate post-mission romp. Her ballet flats slapped against the dark hardwood floor when Felicity chose to stare out at the afternoon Star City skyline. Her platinum wedding band gleamed in the sunlight. Oliver approached his wife slowly, arms slung low around her waist.

Felicity reminded, fingertips playing with a sleeve of his black hoodie. “It’s just one week. That’s all it is.”

“I know.” Oliver concurred, nibbling on her earlobe. She bit back a moan, despite herself. His pillowy lips continued their descent along her neck. “But we didn’t get a proper goodbye.”

“Mmm.” She hummed, head lolling back against his shoulder. Damn it, Felicity just gave her husband more access. She wanted this, but she didn’t all at the same time. Felicity Smoak-Queen prided herself by always being early. If she was on time, she considered it late. “Oli-Oliver, Oh my… It’s a business trip, I’m not going off to war.”

“I understand, Hon.” He whispered, stubble deliciously pricking her delicate skin. His teeth lightly grazed her pulse point. He tugged on a sleeve of her one shoulder blouse down, peppering the scar on her shoulder with butterfly kisses, “I want you. I always want you.”

Felicity whimpered, eyes fluttering shut, “We can’t. We can’t.”

“We can,” insisted her man, slipping off her crimson blouse in front of the former living room with nary a curtain to shield the view from neighbors.

But in this very moment, Felicity could care less. She climbed up on her husband faster than she ever did the rope in P.E. That move earned her a toothy grin, dimples pooling in his cheeks. Their mouths melded together in slow, languid kisses. He unsnapped her simple nude cotton bra with one hand. She giggled into their next kiss before they tumbled onto the couch.

“You’re overdressed.” His wife urged with a finger snap. “Take it off.”

A hearty laugh bellowed out of him, “You’re making me feel like a stripper, woman. So bossy.”

“Please. You love it. As long as I’m the only one you’re stripping for.”

“Huh? Well, Gerry got the eyeful on your birthday last summer.”

She cringed. “God, Honey. Don’t remind me, although he did get a generous Hanukkah bonus that year.”

Oliver flipped her over onto her stomach after wrestling those ripped skinny jeans over legs. Felicity gasped in surprise when he did so. His hands, such sweet callused hands, kneaded over every aching muscle in her back. His lips soon followed, lining the column of his spine with wet smooches. He paid extra special attention to her scars just as she always did to his. Her vision went hazy as his stubble, lips, and fingers all met thick mangled skin of her back, where a new biostimulant chip was placed into her spine.

It was no bigger than a spinal disc and held securely with two titanium rods and four pins. Recovery was a bitch. The surgery itself was more invasive. Unlike her former ally’s biostimulant invention, this little piece of tech she invented would work well without ever hurting anybody again. Six months of physical therapy with Paul did the trick, but her back was far more sensitive in the best and worst ways.

Concern flitted over his face, he checked in, “Was that a good moan or ‘Oh frack! That hurts’ moan?”

“So, so good.” Her voice muffled into the couch cushion as she soon tossed it aside,  

He instructed, “Up.”

Her bottom pressed high in the air, back arched stunningly against his palms. Her lips fell into a frown when she noticed the warm radiating off his body disappeared. His grin was positively boyish when Felicity let him remove her glasses. It must’ve painful with her face buried in the cushions.

“What are you… ? _Oh!_ ”

Realization dawned on Felicity when her husband’s head nestled between her legs. Her knees planted ust above his broad shoulders. He teased her at first with simple slow drag of his finger over her increasingly wet folds. His tongue quickly replaced his hand, two fingers rubbing her clitoris. He stoked the fire that was about to burn too swiftly. Oliver was under, inside, and around his wife. Sensations were all too consuming. She rocked against his face, as his tongue riffed against a special spot deep inside her, his fingers never relenting in their easy, but perfect rhythm. Curse words filled the room when Felicity reached her release, thighs trembling as she collapsed as if her bones were comprised of gelatin.

His voice husky and low, “You taste addicting.” A kiss punctuated each word when his lips traveled along her spine, “ _Sweet. Tangy. Rich. So good_. You’re so fucking sexy, Felicity.”

She purred, “Mm, ooh, tell me something I don’t know, and get over here. I want you. I want you now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied her husband with a wink.

Normally, Felicity liked it on top. However, her muscles were lethargic. On a very rare occasion, she let Oliver have full reign. His body blanketed hers. Felicity’s legs provided the perfect cradle. Oliver’s dick was annoyingly pressed against a spot on their couch, where the cushions usually remained. A hand swept through her wavy blonde locks. Felicity playfully scratched his stubble, which was a bit longer than usual before her hand drift into his blonde, salt, and pepper hair. They gazed moon-eyed at each other with pure love and adoration.

Felicity whispered, voice husky with overuse, “Hiya, stranger.”

“Hey, beautiful.” He answered softly, nuzzling her nose.

They shared a French kiss. Oliver nibbled on her bottom lip. Felicity moaned at that and when the tip of his dick slid along the remnants of her previous orgasm. He slipped inside her sweltering heat slowly until Oliver was deep-seated. Felicity clung to him, feeling his erection pulse inside her before he finally moved. Gone was the mere thought of gentle. She was shoved up the couch as they met each other with harsh thrusts. She tweaked her nipple — just to get more of a feel. His hips slanted, changing the angle so his pelvis brushed against her clitoris.

“Right t _here, right there, right there, fuck!_ ”

She fell over the edge again, nails digging into his scarred back, heels pressing into his butt cheeks. He kept moving as her own orgasmic aftershocks rippled through her.

“ _Oh… Felicity, Baby_!”

Muscles along his spine trembled as Oliver reached his own release. Remnants of the lovemaking mingled with one another as they shared soft pecks and whispered sweet nothings. The couple had just enough time to clean up and get dressed before Felicity needed to go to Starling International.

Oliver’s face split into a grin when his wife strutted through a hefty spritz of her favorite perfume as if she walked the catwalk during fashion week in Milan.

“What? That was lovely as usual, but I choose not to smell like sex and sweat.”

“Didn’t say anything, Babe.”

Oh, but his face said it all.

She shimmied into her jeans before her mouth fell agape upon noticing the late hour. They raced down to their Chrysler and damn near sped to the airport.

In the parking lot, Oliver reminded in a huff, “Don’t forget your Epi-Pen.”

“I didn’t. C’mon, we got to go.”

“And don’t forget to take your glasses off before you fall asleep.”

Oliver usually did that for her and he always remembered to bookmark the page she read before they slept.

“Chop, chop, Queen.”

“And I packed your extra tablet charger just in case.”

They made the way to the gate.

“C’mon, c’mon, Honey. I’m already late.”

“One last thing…”

“What?!” Her loud voice was on full display.

“I love you.”

Well, they promised never to leave or say good night without those three important words.

“Aw, I love you too.”

Felicity and Oliver’s kiss was distracting, but the blonde hacker was more focused on the flight schedule.

She sighed in relief, “And you are so lucky my flight’s delayed. I’ll call you tonight when I’m in Gotham.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, if my formatting is off, my laptop has gone to Tech Village Heaven in the sky, so stories are written on my phone and tablet.  
> Reviews and Kudos are appreciated.  
> Say hey, and please let me know what you think in the comments.  
> Tumblr: [DMichelleWrites](http://dmichellewrites.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@dmichellewrites](https://twitter.com/dmichellewrites)


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